


Paper Hearts

by xsilverdreamsx



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, Homophobia, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-05
Updated: 2012-06-05
Packaged: 2017-11-06 22:01:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/423738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xsilverdreamsx/pseuds/xsilverdreamsx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Arthur accidentally slips a love letter into Merlin’s locker, Merlin’s response sets off an exchange of sarcastic poetry, a Dummies Guide, and a whole lot of self-denial.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paper Hearts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thisissirius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/gifts).



> OP (thisissirius) asked for a fic where the two boys exchange notes and are ridiculous about it. I hope I’ve done... some justice to the prompt? Also, I swear this was going to be a short fluff but the story just.... grew.
> 
> Beta'ed by the ever awesome etharei, as well as janesgravity who also Brit-picked it. You are both the best. <3

“You sure that’s the right locker?” Arthur whispers to Gwaine.

“Seventh one from the left, third row up, ‘s what Lance said,” Gwaine tells him, keeping his voice low and quiet.

“Lance? You didn’t tell--”

“What, no! I’m not a snitch, and besides, if I was, he’d have told Gwen and I’d be left to deal with your broken heart. Thanks, but no thanks, mate,” Gwaine hisses back, but there’s a grin across his face. Arthur gives him a rough shove for his efforts.

“Alright, keep a lookout then. I’m going in,” Arthur tells him. Gwaine nods and Arthur steps out into the corridor. He makes his way to the row of lockers quietly, keeping an eye out for any teacher who might appear and ask him why he isn’t in class. Arthur might be one of the top students in the Sixth Form, but he knows that if he even has one black mark on his record, his father would ban him from playing football that term.

Just as he finds the locker he’s looking for, he hears a noise from down the hallway, and panics.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out the note that had been burning a hole in his pants, and slips it through the gap beneath the locker door. His task done, he hurries back to where Gwaine is hiding, just in time to hear the bell ring, right before the hallway starts to fill up with students. By then, Arthur and Gwaine are casually blending into the crowd, and he breaths a sigh of relief that he’s managed to pull off his ridiculous idea.

Unfortunately for Arthur, his cousin Morgana corners him just as he’s about the enter the school canteen during break.

“Arthur, why were you asking after Gwen’s locker?” she demands.

“How did you--”

“I was there when Gwaine asked Lance. What are you up to now?”

Arthur looks for Gwaine, who has disappeared. Traitor, Arthur thinks sourly.

“None of your business, Morgana,” Arthur tells her, trying to walk around her to get into the canteen.

Arthur doesn’t want Morgana finding out exactly _why_ he was asking after the location of Gwen’s locker, because it would only lead to an awkward conversation about how he has a sort of a crush on Gwen. Gwen is always nice to him, but then again, she’s nice to _everyone_. Arthur wants to make an impression, and according to what he had heard, Gwen isn’t very impressed by wealth and status, notably his.

So Arthur - in a state of desperation - and after accidentally discovering one of Morgana’s girly magazines providing a list of suggestions on how to woo a girl, had thought: well, why not?

Writing poetry is hard, but according to the magazine, one of the Top Ten Things A Guy Should Do To Attract Your Attention lists poetry as one of them, right under Cook You A Romantic Dinner and Have A Picnic Date. He’s shit at cooking, and the nearest park for a picnic is usually frequented by pet owners taking their dogs for a walk - eating next to dog crap doesn’t sound very romantic - so he’s opted for Romantic Words To Stir Your Heart.

Arthur is confident that he can sweep Gwen off her feet with his poetry. He has, after all, _slaved_ over it for hours, staying up till three a.m. trying to make the words rhyme, using the magnificent power of Google and Wikipedia.

“Don’t you dare run away, Arthur,” Morgana threatens when he successfully slips past her, and her hand shoots out to grab the edge of his uniform, trying to pull him back. Arthur twists away in time, and is facing her as he walks backwards, smirking at her.

“Morgana, you must be losing your touch--” Suddenly he bumps into someone behind him. A clattering sound follows this, and Arthur turns and looks down in surprise to find a boy sprawled on the ground, shirt covered in pasta and sauce. The rest of the students around them are laughing and pointing at the boy, who is woefully looking at his stained uniform. He briefly throws Arthur a withering glance.

“Thanks for that. I don’t suppose you ever watch where you’re going, do you?” the boy snaps. Arthur blinks at this, and then narrows his eyes.

Before Arthur can say anything, he notices that Gwen is helping the boy up to his feet, and fussing over him.

“Merlin, are you alright?” Arthur hears her ask. Merlin answers quietly, and she shakes her head in response before he shrugs her hand off and runs out of the room, trailing spaghetti on the floor behind him.

Gwen shoots Arthur a _look_ before taking off after Merlin.

He groans inwardly. After all his efforts, Gwen finally pays attention to him, but for the wrong reason.

It’s all _Merlin_ ’s fault, of course.

The rest of the day passes by uneventfully, except for the occasional odd glances that Gwen throws his way a few times during Lit. class. He wonders if she’s found the note he’s written her, and then remembers the look on her face earlier and thinks perhaps he’s lost his chance already.

Once school ends, Arthur drops by his locker to keep his textbooks. When he pulls open the door, something falls out, fluttering to the ground.

Curious, he leans down to pick it up - it’s a small envelope containing a note or a letter - and notices that it is sealed with his name messily written on the front.

He is about to open it when he hears Leon calling down the hall, reminding him of football practice. He stuffs the envelope into his bag and hurries off.

Arthur reaches home a few hours later and throws himself facedown onto his bed, drained of thought and energy. Football practice had been a killer today. Valiant, one of newer boys in the team, had cheated twice, tripping Arthur when the coach wasn’t looking.

Valiant of course had denied everything, and no one else had backed Arthur up. Leon hadn’t seen anything, and Gwaine was absent today, so Arthur was left with a bunch of quivering spineless team members who feared Valiant, who’s never been quiet of the fact that he’s jealous of Arthur being next in line as team captain.

Suddenly he hears the buzzing sound of a vibrating mobile phone, followed by _Baby baby baby ohhh_ , and he scrambles off his bed to switch off the offending noise.

_Baby baby baby ohhhh_ Bieber sings cheerfully. Frustrated, Arthur dumps the contents of his bag onto his bed. The phone falls out, bouncing onto the blankets and landing on top of a pile of papers, and he snatches it before it can emit another round of unfortunate music.

“Morgana, I will _end_ you,” he says heatedly into the phone, as she cackles away on the other end.

“Oh Arthur, dear me, I thought you love the song!”

“How did you even find a way to change it, you witch?” He shuffles around, and finds a bit of space on his bed to lie on without squashing the books from his bag. “I didn’t see you at all since break.”

“I never give away my secrets,” she answers him loftily.

Arthur snorts in response. “Aren’t you supposed to be home by now?” He glances at the clock. It’s nearly dinnertime.

“Tell Uther I’ll be late, I’m still out with the girls,”she answers. She had never liked calling Uther Pendragon ‘uncle’.

“What a surprise. You should tell him yourself next time; I’m not your messenger boy, you know.”

“But you do it so well,” she answers him sweetly. Arthur is about to retort with another sarcastic remark, but she continues on, “Now, I was talking to Gwen earlier...”

Arthur sits up, suddenly less exhausted and much more wide awake than he had been about ten seconds ago. Had Gwen seen his note? Had she mentioned it to Morgana? Would she laugh at Arthur or like him more for it? Did Morgana embarrass him?

Morgana’s next words were not what he had expected to hear.

“.. and according to Gwen, it seems that Merlin had a note stuck inside his locker today from a secret admirer. Now, I wonder who it could be?”

“A ... secret admirer?” Arthur sputters out, and then, “Wait, _Merlin_?”

“Apparently the letter was _practically_ a declaration of love, talking about nightingales and night skies and heart aching for love.” Arthur can almost hear her smirk from the other end of the line. “You know, Arthur, that sounds _dreadfully_ familiar... I believe I’ve read such _marvelous_ prose before. Wasn’t it in that magazine that you stole from my bag?”

“I didn’t steal it. You left it on the table and the page was opened --”

“-- and you read that ridiculous article that even _I_ would never endorse --”

“-- I thought it was about-- wait, hold on, don’t you dare change the subject. What’s this about Merlin getting the note that I gave to Gwen?”

The hysterical shriek of laughter nearly deafened him.

“ _Gwen_? Oh dear gods, you were trying to woo Gwen? Is this some form of old Pendragon chivalry which I’m not aware of? Because the note was very clearly in Merlin’s locker!” Morgana told him, in between laughter.

“How could it have been in his locker when I -- when... I... “ Arthur’s voice trails off, as his mind flashes back to that moment when he had stuck the note into Gwen’s locker.

Seventh locker from the left, Gwaine had said. Arthur had counted - one, two, three, four, five, six - and then the heavy footsteps from around the corner had distracted him --

Arthur groans, as realisation dawns. He remembers now, that he had hurriedly shoved the note into the _sixth_ locker instead.

He starts swearing into the phone to drown out Morgana’s cackling, and rolls onto his back. He hears the rustling of paper and quickly sits up, pulling out the half crumpled envelope he had been lying on. Curious, he tears it open and takes out the folded piece of paper, and reads it.

And reads it again.

“Arthur?” Morgana asks, still trying to swallow her giggles on the other end of the line.

“That idiot wrote _me_ a reply and stuck it in my locker!” He is practically yelling into the phone. “He wrote me a poem ... bloody hell, I am _not fat_ , how dare he mock me... stop laughing, you witch, it’s not funny...”

The next day, after checking that the hall is empty and that there is no one lurking about, Arthur slips the note with his reply into Merlin’s locker, and then hurries off before he can get caught.

Classes are a distraction, and he’s trying to fit in algorithms and history and Kipling into his brain and hurrying off to football practice that he doesn’t see Merlin until he nearly knocks the boy over.

Stumbling, he steadies himself and grabs Merlin’s arm before he falls down. Startled, the other boy looks up at him and Arthur finds himself staring back at the bluest eyes he has ever seen.

Glaring. At Arthur.

His eyes narrow in response. “What the bloody hell were you doing?” he asks in annoyance, letting go of Merlin’s arm.

“I was about to give you this, you prat.” Merlin lifts his hand and flaps something in Arthur’s face. He notices that briefly that Merlin’s slim, pale fingers are gripping an envelope, similar to the one Arthur found in his locker.

“Oh, really, _Mer_ lin,” Arthur mocks. “Another letter? Aren’t we done with the stupid poems now? I’m sure you’ve enjoyed making fun of me.”

“W-what?” Merlin sputters. “ _You_ sent _me_ the first note!”

“That was for _Gwen_ , you idiot. I certainly wouldn’t be writing love poems for _you_ ”

Merlin’s jaw drops. “You really _are_ an arse, aren’t you?”

Arthur is taken aback. The _nerve_ of this scrawny, pale _twig_ of a boy speaking to him like that. “You.. you can’t talk to me like that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, _your highness_ ,” Merlin replied, mockingly. “Don’t worry, you won’t _hear_ another word from me anymore.” He stomps off, as Arthur glares at his retreating back.

The next day, Arthur discovers that Merlin may not be _speaking_ to Arthur, but that doesn’t stop him from leaving annoying little notes in Arthur’s locker, which Arthur responds to with _his_ own notes.

_Arthur, doth you not consider that thy prattishness be a form of a blow to thy head?_

_Hilarious. Stephen Fry called, and he wants you to stop. For England’s sake._

_Very funny. Here’s another one for you: “Roses are red, Violets are Blue, Arthur thinks he’s funny, when he’s really a fool.”_

_That doesn’t even rhyme. Also, are you five or something?_

_You just want to have the last word, don’t you?_

_Shut up. Your ears are funny._

_Your teeth are funny. Bet you can’t get a date with them._

_I’ll have you know tons of girls are into me. The whole handsome ‘package’._

_That’s disgusting. Also, they like your money, not you. If you weren’t a Pendragon, they’d never date you._

_Oh please, like you’d know what girls like. You’ve probably never kissed one before._

_Obviously not, since they’re not my type._

Arthur pauses when he reads this. Merlin is... gay? How hadn’t he known about that?

“It’s not something anyone wants to advertise on their first day of school, you know,” Merlin tells him when Arthur corners him after school and awkwardly blurts out “Why didn’t you tell me you were gay?”

He looks slightly amused, rather than angry.

“Besides,” Merlin continues, “I didn’t think it mattered to anyone at all. It’s not like there’s a whole selection of gay boys for me to choose from here.”

“Well, not with that _hair_ ,” Arthur scoffs, looking at the messy mop of black hair that makes Merlin look like he has just rolled out of bed. Without thinking, he lifts his hand to brush down a particularly unruly lock that is sticking out in a funny way.

Merlin’s ears turn bright red.

Arthur snatches his hand away, and stuffs them into his pockets hurriedly. “Right. Well, we should have Morgana help you then, she’s always looking for a pet project and I’m sure she can find someone for you, after all, she’s very good at matchmaking, or, well, she _thinks_ she is. So. Yes.” Arthur swallows, avoiding Merlin’s eyes. He’s aware that he’s just babbling, but his mouth and body are on auto-pilot right now, activated the minute he had touched the soft strands of hair, had stroked them with his fingers, had thought to himself that this felt very nice and he wanted to keep on doing it.

“So,” Merlin begins, after a few moments of heavy silence. His ears are still a bright color, but there’s a hint of a teasing smile on his face. “Gwen, huh?”

Arthur shoves at Merlin. “Oh, shut it,” he says, without any heat behind his words, and Merlin just grins widely at him.

Merlin, Arthur notices, has dimples.

Arthur is seriously _fucked_.

“You’re spending a lot of time with Merlin lately.”

Arthur looks up, and scowls instantly. Morgana is casually leaning against the door frame, her arms crossed, and looking at him. Her face has a hint of curiosity on it.

“It’s nothing,” he answers gruffly, before turning his attention back to his homework.

“I thought you didn’t like him, but then I see the both of you talking together outside the common room, and it’s just... odd,” she presses on. Arthur continues to ignore her, his pen hovered above his book, as he tries to form the first sentence.

He hears her step into the room, and sighs, giving up and putting down his pen, and swiveling around in his chair to face her. Morgana is standing closer now, and she has a concerned look on her face.

“You’ve never kept secrets from me before, Arthur,” she said. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Look,” Arthur answers her in exasperation, “it’s not a big deal. He apologised, I apologised, it’s all good now.”

“So you’re friends, then?” Morgana sounds skeptical. Arthur can understand why. His friends have always been the same group of boys in his football team. Merlin is set so far apart from the rest of them.

Which is why Arthur has never really told his friends, especially Gwaine, or Leon, about Merlin. He’s not sure how the rest of them would get along with Merlin. Sweet, shy, sarcastic and _gay_ , Merlin.

“Sort of?” Arthur answers hesitantly. He buries the part of him that is screaming _yes, we’re friends but I’d really like to be more than that and perhaps kiss him and do other things but I’m really too much of a twat to admit it_ , and pretends to study the carpet instead, mumbling, “He’s alright. Once you get past the big ears and all.”

Morgana’s about to say something, when they hear Uther calling up the stairs. Relieved for the interruption, Arthur stands up from his chair and heads out of the room. Before he exits it completely, however, he hears her saying, “I’m happy for you, Arthur.”

He pretends not to hear her.

Dinner is awkward, to say the least. Uther keeps asking Arthur if he’s decided on which Uni he’s planning on attending after he’s graduated, and telling him about the amount of money he’ll earn if he takes up a Business Degree. Arthur doesn’t want to do that; he’s not even sure if he’s interested in taking over his father’s corporation as Uther hopes for him to do one day; but he says nothing. He’s learnt in the past that he’ll never be good enough for his father in anything.

Morgana rescues him by talking about Leon, who’s coming over to pick her up for their date after dinner. Uther’s face is pinched in mild irritation; he’s not thrilled by the idea that she’s _dating_ anyone, but he loves his niece too much to ever say no.

When the last dish is cleared, and Uther retreats to his study while the two of them return to their rooms, the doorbell rings. “Must be Leon, he’s early for once!” Morgana exclaims as she bounces past Arthur, who is about to enter his own room.

Minutes later, Arthur hears someone knocking on his bedroom door. “Mate, you are so whipped, being early for Morgana,” he calls out, chuckling, and opens the door.

Instead of Leon, he finds himself looking at Merlin’s face instead.

Merlin, dressed in normal clothes instead of his school uniform, with a look that’s caught between nervousness and mirth.

“If I was here to take Morgana out, I would have dressed better, I think,” he answers dryly. Standing behind him, Morgana looks like the cat that landed a bowl of cream.

“You boys have fun, while I wait for Leon,” Morgana tells them gleefully, and she throws Arthur a wink before gliding back into her room across the hall.

Arthur groans inwardly. Morgana is going to be _insufferable_ tomorrow.

“I hope you don’t mind me being here ... Mum’s visiting her friend down the road and I told her I had something to drop off at your place,” Merlin tells Arthur nervously.

Arthur shakes his head. “Might as well come in, then. What did you bring?” He steps aside, letting Merlin into the room and closing the door behind him.

With a twinkle in his eye, Merlin hands him a book. Arthur looks at the front cover, and lets out a bark of laughter.

“‘Poetry Writing for Dummies’,” he reads out, grinning.

Merlin shrugs casually as he sits on the edge of Arthur’s bed. “Figured that if you planned on writing any more notes to any other girls in the future, you might as well have some help.” Arthur’s heart skips a beat. He hasn’t even thought about Gwen since the failed note ended up in Merlin’s locker, let alone any other girls.

Trying to ignore the feeling of his stomach doing somersaults, he sits down cross legged on his bed, next to Merlin. “Oh, bollocks, my poetry was superb. You’re just jealous that you couldn’t write such a masterpiece,” Arthur tells him loftily.

Merlin gapes at him, and pulls his legs up to the bed, mimicking Arthur’s pose and facing him. “You’re such an arrogant twat! That was the worst poetry I had ever read! Lord Byron would have turned over in his grave if he had heard it!”

“ _Arrogant twat_? Alright, it is _on_.” Arthur leaps, and tackles Merlin down onto the bed, reaching for his sides and tickling him.

Merlin squeals like a girl, and tries to escape, but Arthur has him pinned down. Every time Merlin tries to wiggle away, Arthur digs his fingers below Merlin’s ribs and arms and the other boy bursts into giggles, losing momentum again.

“Stop, stop, oh god Arthur, stop,” Merlin is begging, tears running down his cheeks from laughing so hard. Grinning, Arthur straddles his legs, hands pinning Merlin’s wrists above his head.

“Do you yield?” Arthur asks breathlessly, his heart still racing from all the laughing. Merlin’s eyes are closed, and he’s breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath. Arthur can’t help but notice that his eyelashes are long, almost beautiful, sweeping against his cheekbones as his eyes blink open.

When Merlin’s eyes meet his, his breath catches in his throat.

“Merlin,” Arthur says softly, ”you said... you’ve never kissed anyone before, have you?” He watches Merlin’s eyes widen in realisation, and Arthur leans down, pressing his lips to Merlin’s gently.

It’s... nice. Arthur’s never kissed a boy before, but he figures that the principles behind kissing a boy or a girl would be the same. Merlin’s lips are a little dry, and tastes a little like mint.

Suddenly there’s a loud knocking on the door, and Morgana’s voice comes through. “Merlin, your Mum’s here!”

Merlin shoves Arthur off him and scrambles off the bed so fast that Arthur’s left stunned, unable to say anything.

“I... Okay. I will see you. Tomorrow. I should go! Bye, Arthur!” Merlin bolts, slamming the door behind him and leaving a very confused and frustrated Arthur behind.

Arthur is confused. Why had he kissed Merlin? Why had Merlin run away so fast? Arthur doesn’t have the answers to these questions, and he needs to see Merlin, to talk to him. Arthur is not sure if he wants to consider the idea of dating a boy. He’s obviously not gay - well, he does likes girls, that’s certain - but yet...

Yet, Merlin had been... different. A nice kind of different.

Arthur shakes his head as he walks down the corridor, pausing near Merlin’s locker as he’s done everyday this week.

He waits.

And waits.

An hour later, when Gwen walks past him (with Lance, of course, in tow) and raises her eyebrow, asking if Arthur was lost, he throws in the towel.

Fine, he thinks. If Merlin is avoiding him, Arthur doesn’t need him. Arthur has survived this long without Merlin in his life, he can go on without him. When he yanks open his locker, the first thing he sees is a note inside.

Quickly, he grabs it, and unfolds the paper. He recognises Merlin’s handwriting instantly.

_I’m sorry I ran away like that. I’d like to make it up to you, maybe we could do this properly? Maybe a movie, or something?_

_I’ll be waiting for your answer._

_Merlin._

“What have you got there, Arthur?” Valiant appears suddenly, and snatches the letter from Arthur’s hands before he can hide it away.

“Wait--”

Valiant lets out a bark of laughter. “Oi, boys, Arthur’s got himself a invitation for a date ‘ere!” The sounds of “what” “who’s it from” echo from the group.

“It’s not like that, Val,” Arthur tells him angrily.

“No? Asking you out for a movie? And--” Valiant stops reading the note, and looks at Arthur, scrutinizing his face. “Merlin? Really, mate - I didn’t take you to be a poofter at all.”

Arthur finds himself taking a step forward, fists clenched at his sides. “I’m not,” he answers in a low, angry voice.

“I dunno, mate. You haven’t exactly been hanging around after practice with us lately...”

“I’ve been busy, I told you that--”

“--didn’t think you’d choose a poof over your own team mates,” Valiant continues on, as if Arthur hadn’t said anything at all. “Probably shagging ‘im-”

“We’re not friends, alright?” Arthur snaps before he can stop himself. He sees Gwaine frowning at him from the side, but ignores him, focusing on keeping a neutral face in front of Valiant. “And I’m not fucking shagging him, alright? I’m not a bloody queer!”

Valiant glances over Arthur’s shoulder, and laughs. The sound is low and cruel. “I don’t think you’re going to be having that problem anymore, mate,” he answers, grinning away. “Ain’t that right, Merlin?”

Arthur turns around so fast he’s sure he’s given himself whiplash, and sees Merlin standing a few feet away. His heart leaps, then plunges down to his feet at a neck-breaking speed.

The look on Merlin’s face is _heartbreaking_ , as if someone had physically injured Merlin - and the first thing Arthur thought of was that he wanted to break that person’s legs.

And then it sinks in. Every single word that Arthur had uttered to Valiant, everything that he scornfully denied comes rushing back in his mind.

Merlin had heard what Arthur had said.

He takes a step forward, apology on the tip of his tongue, and Merlin lets out a broken sound before turning around and running.

_Fuck_.

“Ha! Look at him go! Arthur, you should have held on to your girlfriend there, he’s like a rabbit, ain’t he? We could have had some fun!”

Arthur feels the surge of anger, originally delayed but now clearly rising up. He turns back towards Valiant slowly, seeing the triumphant, gleeful look on his face.

Valiant smirks at him.

Arthur punches him in the face, sending him staggering backwards. His friends grab him in time before he trips and falls onto the ground.

“You bloody wanker, what the hell was that for?” Valiant yells at him while covering his nose with one hand. Blood is leaking through his fingers.

“Shut it, Val.” Arthur looks at Valiant in disdain, who’s struggling against his friends who are holding him back from launching at Arthur.

Valiant shouts some more, before Gwaine slaps his head. “Shut up, mate.” Valiant gapes, as Gwaine nods at Arthur.

“What’s going on here?” Suddenly the headmaster is standing in front of all of them, glaring. “Mr. Pendragon, kindly explain,” he says to Arthur, who happens to be the closest.

Valiant speaks up first. “Sir, I was just minding my own business, when I--”

“--walked right into the wall, didn’t you, Valiant?” Arthur answers for him. Valiant gapes at him.

The headmaster glances at Valiant, and then at the other boys next to him. “Is this true?”

The others look at each other nervously. Then Gwaine speaks. “Yes, sir. It was a wall,” he answers. There are mumbles and murmurs of agreement. Valiant glares at all of them.

“Well, come with me now, let’s get you to the school nurse and have that looked at. The rest of you need to get back to class, I won’t have any loitering about in the halls.”

“Thank you, sir,” Arthur answers gratefully, as the headmaster grunts and walks off, Valiant following him, looking defeated.

“Come on, mate, you heard him. Class and all,” Gwaine says to Arthur, shoving at his shoulder.

Arthur looks at Gwaine, and quietly tells him, “Thanks, Gwaine.”

Gwaine shrugs. “I’m not Valiant, mate. He’s a wanker, and a tosser at that.”

“What he said earlier--”

“Look, it doesn’t matter to me one whit if you’re into guys, alright? And Merlin, well... Merlin’s a good person. You could do with a lot worse, you know,” Gwaine answers him.

Arthur feels immensely grateful at Gwaine’s words. Then his face falls. “Oh god, Merlin. Gwaine, I’ve been a downright arse to him, he’s never going to speak to me again,” Arthur groans audibly.

Gwaine laughs, clapping Arthur on the shoulder. “Mate, the way I’ve seen the two of you going about this week, I’d say he’s all yours. Talk to him, grovel, whatever, but just _be honest_ and tell him the truth.”

Arthur can only hope that Gwaine is right.

Arthur waits for Merlin by the lockers after his classes are over, but there’s no sign of him.

He tries the school library, the canteen, and even the common room - although he knows that Merlin hates it because everyone likes to make fun of him there - but still, no Merlin.

Finally, he finds Merlin at the back of the school, by the sports shed where all their football equipment is stored. The other boy is leaning his back against the shed, head hung low and dejected, and it’s clear from Arthur’s position that Merlin’s been crying.

Arthur takes one look at that face and a new sort of feeling rushes through him.

It’s an odd sort of feeling, the kind that makes his chest tighten and his heart beat faster, the sort that makes it hard to focus on anything else. It is the sort of feeling that brings to his mind an image: twenty years from now, Arthur sitting on the couch, holding Merlin in his arms, perhaps after dinner, with the dishes in the sink and candles burnt down to their holders.

They’d be watching the telly – perhaps one of Merlin’s favorite shows, which Arthur pretends to hate but secretly enjoys. Merlin will catch Arthur laughing at one of the jokes, and look at him as if he’s ridiculous and wonderful at the same time, like he always does.

It’s so incredibly _domestic_ , but Arthur wants that.

He would have never given it a second thought before, back when he’d assume that he would marry some girl, have kids, the usual thing. But he doesn’t want that now, not anymore, not when he’s met the alternative, all funny ears and gawky limbs and enchanting smile, who’s come and left behind an empty feeling in his heart, the kind that he _doesn’t_ want anyone else but _Merlin_ replacing it.

Arthur clears his throat, and Merlin hears him and looks up. When he catches sight of Arthur, there is a broken look that crosses his face momentarily, before it is replaced by an angry one as he crosses his arms.

“What?” Merlin’s voice trembles a little. He’s been hurt by Arthur’s actions, and he’s still hurting.

Arthur has to fix this.

“I -” Arthur begins to say, then pauses.

The problem is, he hasn’t got a game plan, a strategy of any sort to deal with this.

Merlin lets out a tired sigh, and shifts his bag. As usual, he’s forgotten to zip the top, and a few books start to slip out; Merlin grabs them in time and shoves them all back inside the bag, an annoyed sound escaping from his lips.

Arthur catches sight of a familiar piece of paper, folded and carefully slotted in between the pages of one of the books, with the blue coloured edge sticking from the top.

It’s the same type of paper that Arthur’s been using to write his letters to Merlin.

Arthur’s struck with an idea. It’s a risky, and probably stupid one but it’s the only thing he can think of right now. He reaches into his pockets and pulls out a piece of paper, folded neatly with the hint of blue colour marking the edges.

“I don’t want any more notes from you, Arthur,” Merlin says tiredly. “You’ve made it perfectly clear, we’re from two completely different --” he starts, but Arthur cuts him off hurriedly before he can say anymore.

“Just hear me out, alright? Five minutes, and I promise I’ll leave you alone once I’m finished,” Arthur pleads.

Merlin throws up his hands in the air. “Alright, fine. _Fine_ , let’s get this over and done with.” He reaches out with his hand, ready to take the note but Arthur shakes his head. If he’s doing this, he’s going to do it right.

Arthur unfolds the piece of paper, and reads it aloud.

 

_"The first time we met, you were so insufferable, with your stupid jokes and insults. I said some stupid things, but you weren’t afraid to say them back to me. But then, I started thinking maybe you fitted into my life too well and I got scared. I thought I didn’t need you anymore._

_But it was a lie. I miss you._

_I miss you calling me names. I miss how you make the day better by just smiling, the little dimples on your face whenever you laugh. I miss how you, of all people, are braver and better than anyone else I’ve known, and that you make _me_ braver and better than what I always thought I should be. I didn’t know what I was missing until it was gone, and I would do anything to have you back._

_I said some hurtful things, things I should never have even considered, and I regret every single word. I know that there’s no Guide or book anywhere that I can read to take everything back, but I hope you do."_

_  
_

Arthur is afraid to look up, afraid to see the look of scorn or pity or anything else on Merlin’s face. He’s taken a leap, laid his heart out bare, and now he’s just waiting for the final stroke of the axe.

“Idiot,” he hears and then suddenly Arthur finds himself with an armful of Merlin before their lips meet, and the kiss is soft and sweet and just _perfect_.

It’s even better than their first kiss the night before, Arthur thinks.

They pull apart, and Merlin looks at Arthur, his eyes unfocused and perhaps a little dazed, but grinning.

Arthur can’t help grinning back.

“Are you sure you should be seen talking to me? Your reputation might suffer, you know,” Merlin teases him, but Arthur is distracted by his lips, which are swollen and red from their kissing.

Instead of answering, he leans in and nips at Merlin’s lower lip, sinking his teeth in gently. Merlin gasps - whether from pain or lust, Arthur doesn’t know or care - and Arthur soothes the bite with his tongue before he pulls back. “I think it’s probably a little too late for that, considering I just gave Valiant a broken nose,” he answers ruefully.

Merlin looks at him in shock. “You what?” Arthur just grins at him. A smile spreads across Merlin’s face. “Really?”

Arthur nods.

“I’ve never had someone do that for me before,” Merlin tells him shyly.

“Well,” Arthur answers, puffing his chest up gallantly, “Just all in a day’s work, a knight saving a damsel in distress--”

“Oi! Not a damsel!” Merlin protests loudly, poking at his chest, trying to push Arthur away. Arthur tightens his grip around Merlin’s waist and pulls him closer. “Let go, Arthur, I’ll prove to y-yo-- ohhh... that’s...” Merlin’s voice fades, as Arthur presses against him.

“My mistake, you certainly don’t _feel_ like a damsel,” Arthur corrects himself slyly. Merlin pouts and Arthur responds with another lengthy kiss.

At their feet, Arthur’s note lies on the ground, forgotten for a brief moment. Later, Merlin will quietly slip it into his pocket, intending to keep it to himself. He will only open it to read it again that night, when the world is quiet and the stars are watching, and he will find a grocery list, in Arthur’s handwriting, instead of the words which Arthur had spoken earlier.

And Merlin will never tell Arthur that he knows, not today, not tomorrow, and not even twenty years from now, when they’re looking through their school’s year books and reminiscing about the past.

But it’s the one proof that he has that Arthur truly loves him.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I shamelessly borrowed the fake letter scene from the movie “17 Again”. I regret nothing, however. ;)


End file.
